The Princess and the Street Urchin
by romansilence
Summary: A moment of father-daughter-bonding, Magnus-style.


Sanctuary Bingo – Gregory Magnus

Disclaimer: "Sanctuary", its characters and background story belong to Damian Kindler and 3stagemedia. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be made.

This story was written for the prompt "Gregory Magnus" on my Sanctuary Bingo – Second Round card.

Summary: Father-daughter bonding Magnus-style.

center **The Princess and the Street Urchin**

by

romansilence/center

LONDON, August 1863:

Doctor Gregory Magnus had a problem. One of his contacts had sent an urgent message that he was needed in Paris immediately. An abnormal seemed to be running amuck, leaving so much carnage in his wake that he could just as well have to deal with a group of dangerous abnormals instead of only one. His problem was what to do with his daughter, Helen.

He usually would have no qualms to leave her in the care of their housekeeper, but Mrs. Henderson was on her annual vacation, visiting extended family in South Wales. The last governess he had hired had quit three days ago after only four weeks of clashing heads with his stubborn daughter. She had been the last one in a long line of women whose pedagogic abilities had been overtaxed when dealing with young Miss Helen. With possibly a murdering abnormal on the loose he couldn't in good conscience take her with him to Paris. She was only a girl and had not yet turned thirteen – two reasons why he intended to keep her as far away from his special projects as possible.

Gregory had only one option left – he would have to ask his older sister to take care of Helen, but he really hated having to ask that rigid, old fashioned, bigoted old biddy for a favor, and the only thing Helen and his sister had in common was a mutual animosity. No, he really was not looking forward to tell Helen about that decision, but what had to be done, had to be done.

Two hours later –and Gregory had no idea how he had let himself be talked into this – he had agreed to let Helen stay at the house with just the maid as company.

center~*~/center

Ten days later Gregory was back home. The abnormal he had gone to hunt down had turned out to be nothing but a killer of the human variety with a penchant for cruelty and the criminal energy to live his fantasies to the fullest. Gregory had helped the French authorities to catch the man and he would soon be facing execution.

Gregory entered his house and found it eerily quiet. His office and the state room were just as he had left them, as was the dining room and the bedrooms upstairs. Even the library was empty, the one room in which his daughter could usually be found, reading things probably completely unsuitable for a young lady. He had never dared to look too closely.

He ventured down to the kitchen and found the maid drinking tea. Although there was nothing unusual in that her nervous reaction when he asked about Helen's whereabouts caused the short hairs on the back of his neck to rise in suspicion. He looked at the young woman who had been in his service for the last two years with an intensity he usually reserved for a new species of abnormal; and it didn't take Brigid long to crack.

Brigid started to cry and admitted that she only had seen Miss Helen a couple of times during his absence and that his daughter spent most of the day outside, doing who-knew-what.

"And you just let her run loose? She's only a child. What were you thinking?" Gregory asked incredulously.

"I'm only the maid, sir, and besides, out there no one knows that she's a girl, sorry, sir, a young lady. I helped her alter one of your old suits. It's really convincing."

Gregory jumped up from the kitchen chair he had just sat down on and shouted, "She what? You did what? Convincing? My daughter is out there… this is so completely irresponsible! Stupid! Negligent! Criminal! And you even helped her create a disguise? I should throw you out and make sure that no one else in a hundred mile radius hires you."

"Father, please stop," Helen's voice came from the door that lead to the herb and vegetable garden.

Gregory turned around and looked at the slender boy with the face of his daughter. A few blond strands of hair that had escaped the confines of the cap she was wearing.

"Brigid only did what I ordered her to do. If you want to assign blame, blame me. I'm the one responsible."

Helen looked taller in trousers, Gregory thought.

Gregory took a deep breath and exhaled as slowly as he could. It calmed him enough to order Helen in a normal voice to go upstairs and wait in his office. Then he turned to Brigid before leaving as well. "I expect supper to be ready in two hours, something warm."

center~*~/center

Helen was stood in front of his desk when Gregory entered his office. He took a seat and just looked at her. She had taken off the cap, letting her blond hair fall down on her shoulders. Without the fashionable, in his eyes, exaggerated curls she resembled one of those pre-raphaelite angel portraits that were so popular at the moment and let you question if you were looking at a man or a woman or something in-between.

"Helen Elizabeth Magnus, what were you thinking? Do you have any idea of the dangers waiting out there?"

"I wanted to escape my gilded cage, Father. I wanted to learn about the world; and what better way to learn than to go experience that world first hand. For once I wanted to walk along a street, alone, without people staring at me or a policeman asking if I were lost or had been separated from my guardian. Wearing those clothes gave me that freedom and regardless of what you say, I will not regret it."

"If you absolutely want to be a boy I should treat you like one and give you a sound caning for your irresponsible behaviour and your total disregard for your own safety," Gregory's voice held a dark quality that surprised even him.

Helen's eyes widened slightly. She swallowed hard, pushed her chin out bravely and said, "Whatever you decide to do to me, Father, it will not change my mind. I will not return to my cage, and I do not want to be a boy. I just want to have the same rights, the same freedoms. I want to be allowed to learn and go to school and attend university and become a doctor. I want a real life."

Gregory stood up and rounded the desk. He put himself between the table and his daughter. They held visual contact and Helen did not flinch for even a second. Gregory pulled his daughter in an embrace; her passionate words had snuffed out his anger as a gust of wind would blow out a candle.

"If only it were that easy, Helen. No school that teaches what you want to learn would consider accepting you as a student or even as a guest."

"But there's so much to learn. I already learned a lot in those few days but there's so much more out there, a whole world just waiting to be explored," Helen said with enthusiasm and longing.

"What did you learn, Helen?" Gregory asked.

"Oh, I learned how to box and the basic moves with a cricket bat. I learned how to throw pennies and I'm really good at it. I won enough to buy us a decent lunch," Helen answered.

"Us? Did you suddenly turn into Royalty?"

"Nigel and I. I met him on the first day I ventured out. He helped me escape a group of bullies who thought that I would be an easy victim. Nigel goes to clerical school but he has a really hard time with languages, and he has to catch up until the school begins again. I help him with Latin and Greek and he teaches me about physics and chemistry. It's very interesting, and we've only just scratched the surface. Nigel is also teaching me anatomy."

Gregory pushed Helen back until he could look her into the eyes. "Anatomy? And pray tell how is this Nigel-fellow doing that? Please, tell me that you did not allow that boy to touch you in any way."

"What are you talking about, Father? Nigel is a friend. He's a year younger than I am and he's the perfect gentleman. He says that his mother would, what did he call it? Yes, tan his hide if he ever were disrespectful to a woman or a girl. I'm sure that you will like him. I told him that once you were back we could learn in the study or the garden."

"So, he knows that you are not a boy?" Gregory asked.

"Oh, yes, he was so flustered when he found out and when I explained it, he really did his best to show me something new every day. Today we went to a lake in Hyde Park and he taught me how to let stones skip over the water. It's not all about things I can read up on, Father. Please, don't take that away from me," Helen implored him.

Gregory looked into those incredibly blue eyes that reminded him so much of his late wife and as many times before he found it almost impossible not to give in.

"You're asking a lot of your old father, my child but I promise that I will think of a way to get you at least a part of what you want and maybe even need. Mind you, that does not mean that I will allow further escapades disguised as a boy, but I will give your schooling some serious thought.

"Now go and change. You, my darling daughter are much too pretty for a boy, and when you're done I want you to go to the library and put the last ten, no, the last fifteen books you've read on my desk."

Helen kissed his cheek and hurried out of the room. Gregory stayed leaning against his desk and kept staring at the closed door long after Helen was gone. Rationally he knew that as Helen's father, the person charged to watch over her virtue and virginity, he should confine her to her room and only let her out when he had found a suitable candidate for marriage.

And a part of him felt that that really would be the right thing to do. A bigger part of him, probably the scientist in him, however, was impressed with Helen's determination and initiative.

center~*~/center

After supper Gregory sent Helen to her room and retired to the library. Aside from the fifteen books he also found a notebook on his desk and a small piece of paper on top of it.

 _Dear Father,_

 _I took the liberty of furnishing you with my notes. Knowing what I read will not tell you what I have understood of the material. I hope you'll find the notebook at least slightly instructive._

 _Your daughter,_

 _Helen Elizabeth Magnus_

The 'daughter' was underlined twice. Yes, Gregory thought, his little one really was one of a kind, though she would probably not speak to him for at least a week if she ever learned about his private nick-name for her.

He opened the notebook and quickly was mesmerized by Helen's notes and excerpts. There were a few mistakes and a few misconceptions which was to be expected considering that she had never had any formal training or schooling.

Some of her errors even showed an extremely creative way of looking at things, a way of thinking a good teacher could easily build on. But where to find such a teacher?

A governess wouldn't do; that had not worked the last half a dozen times. He could hire tutors for Helen, Gregory thought; and then he laughed, even that would probably turn his unorthodox methods into the main topic of every widow in search for a husband and every mother looking for a suitable prospective bride for their still teenaged sons.

Well, he never had cared much about the opinions of his so-called peers…

It would be difficult to even find tutors, people willing to teach hard science to a girl, soon a young lady. Theoretically he could take over some of her schooling and he promised himself that he would not leave Helen's anatomy lessons or other medical training to one boy or the other, regardless of how well-mannered Helen thought he was.

Gregory once again turned his attention to the notebook and Helen's neat writing, devoid of the flowery style usually taught to young women. He suddenly remembered that Helen's adamant refusal to even learn the ornate script had been the cause of another governess throwing up her hands in disgust and leaving his employ over five years ago. She had been the first.

A random thought tugged at the edge of his mind: maybe, just maybe, he would not have to look outside of his own house to find someone to carry on his work; maybe he did not need a man to find a successor.

center~*~/center

LONDON, September 1870:

"Really, Gregory, you shouldn't indulge her whims. How will she ever find a respectable husband if she keeps behaving like this? She has no idea how to run a household. She has no skills. Even her needle point is atrocious."

Gregory burst out laughing. "My dear sister. I do not care for Helen's needle point, but I can assure you that she makes the tiniest stitches I've ever seen done in an operating theatre."

"That's just scandalous, preposterous."

Gregory looked down into his brandy glass to hide his smirk. His sister had really no idea what Helen had become, and though society might not approve, he was proud of Helen Elizabeth Magnus, his daughter.

 **The END**


End file.
